


Hutch’s Birthday. Part 2.

by Curlew



Series: Hutch’s Birthday [2]
Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post Series, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:00:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29398020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curlew/pseuds/Curlew
Summary: A story in response to the Thursday Trivia prompt on FB to put an innocent line of dialogue into a slashy context. The quote this week was “Your timing leaves a lot to be desired.”This  is the sequel to my story “Hutch’s  Birthday” but will stand alone, so long as you know that Hutch is doing up their new house while recovering from a nervous breakdown. The puppy was his birthday present from Starsky.
Relationships: Ken Hutchinson/David Starsky
Series: Hutch’s Birthday [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2159631
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	Hutch’s Birthday. Part 2.

Starsky paused for a moment before he opened the gate. It had been a long, hard day, but the neat white picket fence round the weatherboard house never failed to lift his spirits. And the front door was still red. He had painted that himself one day while his partner slept, and he was sure that he would eventually come home to find it repainted a tasteful blue or green. “We live by the sea, Starsk! Houses by the sea don’t have red front doors !” He remembered the outrage-and how, even as he protested “But it’s candy-apple red!” his grin had been so huge it nearly hurt. A man who cared enough to care about the color of his front door was a man beginning to engage with life again.

He opened the gate warily, waiting for the scurry of paws, then, checking that he was unobserved - he had his image to maintain, after all - scooped the puppy up in his arms and rubbed his face against the wriggling bundle of smooth warm black and white fur and frantically licking pink tongue.

“Hi, you cutest squishy Spotty Dog. Had a good day? Where’s your dad?”

He realized that his hyper alert Hutch radar had already started to ping. It was early evening, and Hutch’s latest hideous car was parked outside, but the house was silent. No sounds of busy tools, no music, no smell of cooking. His heart sank, and a treacherous voice in his head whispered “Please, no. Not today. I’m tired. All I want is a quiet evening. A little food, some TV, a late walk with Spot. Bed. And then.....” 

Ruthlessly crushing the voice, he tucked the puppy into his shirt, noting as he did that he would soon be too big for this, and went in, collecting evidence as he did. Breakfast dishes still on the table. No sign of dinner preparation. Everything as it had been when he had left, nine hours earlier.

The puppy wriggled to be put down, then ran to the back door, ran back to Starsky then back to the door, wagging and pointing his tiny nose at the garden. Squaring his shoulders, he followed, to find Hutch lying motionless in the hammock.

“Hey, buddy, budge up”

He dumped the puppy on his partner’s chest, and joined him, setting the hammock swinging. The puppy wobbled, and big slender hands steadied him, but the eyes stayed closed.

“Still in your pjs, huh? Bad day?”

A shrug, eyes still closed. Starsky felt his heart contract. Nobody lost color and life the way Hutch did when the darkness threatened. Gently he slid his arm under his lover, and gave a very tentative tug. Sometimes, if things weren’t too bad......... To his relief, the blond head moved to rest on his shoulder. The puppy, relieved, pushed between them and curled up.

“Who invited you, Spot?”

Blue eyes opened a crack.

“His name’s not Spot”

“He’s Spot to me. I refuse to call him..........” Starsky was distracted by a rustle of paper underneath him and retrieved a letter. “What’s this?”

The eyes closed again, and the head started to move away, but Starsky’s arm tightened. 

“You stay right there. Can I read it?

“Yeah”

Starsky smoothed out the crumpled sheet.

“Medical retirement. Love-we were kinda expecting that.”

“I know. But it sucker punched me. Don’t know what to do”

“It’s a great package. Take it”

The eyes opened again.

“Didn’t get as far as that. All I could think was......”

Starsky drew a gentle finger down Hutch’s face, from his hairline, down the crease between his brows, over his nose, across his lips, noting the tremble, to his chin.

“What?”

“All I could think was you. Th....Th....three bullets, and you actually d....d....”

“Shhhh, babe, you don’t have to say it”

“And then me. How pathetic am I? How much of a failure? You came back from all that, and I..I...can’t even get my brain together”

The lips were really trembling now. Starsky longed to kiss them, the vulnerability pierced his soul, but he knew from experience that would be a mistake. Instead, he slid his other arm round, noticing with satisfaction the tense body relaxing a little against him.

“Angel, you know I’m not good at this stuff, but if you want to know what I think, I think that some of the... the glue that held your brain together all those years went to helping me mend. So we kinda share the glue now”

Hutch gave a breath of laughter.

“You are a nut”

“Yeah. But I’m your nut. And it’s a good thing we’re planning on sticking together, considering we only got enough glue for one person between us”

Almost a proper laugh this time, and a face turned up to be kissed.

“I love you so much-I don’t know how to tell you”

Starsky grinned, conscious that, for now, the darkness had been held at bay.

“Care to show me?”

He shifted a little, letting one hand slide under the waistband of Hutch’s loose pants, delighted as always, at the effect he had on his lover’s body, and the husky moan of pleasure that accompanied the instant response, and was just bending to kiss him, other hand buried in the silky gleam of pale gold hair, when something growled, and tiny, needle sharp teeth sank into his arm. He jerked back with a yell, his foot tangled in the hammock, and he ended up flat on his back on the grass, looking up at the half amused, half horrified face of his lover peering down at him. 

“That FUCKING dog! I’m bleeding!!!l”

“It’s not his fault-he doesn’t understand. He was defending me!”

“Well, I hope he’s got someone to defend him, because so help me.....”

Hutch joined him on the grass, his puppy cuddled defensively in his arms.

“You need to be very nice to Uncle Starsky now, Viking. Your timing leaves a lot to be desired”


End file.
